


My Life as an Undead Gentleman

by Salios



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fix-It, Inspired by "My Life as a White Trash Zombie", Kingsman are actually zombies, M/M, Zombies, confused!Eggsy, long-suffering!Merlin, smug!Roxy, zombie!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salios/pseuds/Salios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy stared.<br/>And stared.<br/>And stared.<br/>Eventually the supposedly dead man sighed and gently ushered his protégé back into the house and closed the door behind them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't already, look up the series "My Life as a White Trash Zombie" by Diana Rowland. It's awesome and actually has a pretty good run. It came out before Izombie by several years. The audiobooks are pretty good too!  
> If anyone feels like drawing zombie!Harry please please please do!
> 
> Can't guarantee how often I'll update this. I wanted to post it before I lost the drive to write. It won't be a long series but that's probably best.

Eggsy stared.

And stared.

And stared.

Eventually the supposedly dead man sighed and gently ushered his protégé back into the house and closed the door behind them. Eggsy continued to stare, even as Harry guided him into the living room and gently pushed him onto the chesterfield. With a chuckle Harry pushed Eggsy’s hanging jaw closed with the tip of one finger.

“Eggsy, manners.”

The blond sputtered. “Manners? _Fuck_ manners! Yer fuckin’ dead!” He stood from the couch only to move into Harry’s space. His hands patted down the taller man’s torso, then his neck and eventually cradled Harry’s head, turning it side to side. “I saw you get _shot_! In the _head_.”

He was looking for evidence of Harry being shot, and he wouldn’t find it.

Carefully Harry took Eggsy’s hands and drew them to his chest. “Eggsy,” he murmured, “What do you think happened.”

“Ah… you...you died…” Came the choked response. Harry’s still heart clenched painfully. “You told me you’d fix things, you were so angry an’ then… Then you went and got shot _in the fuckin’ ‘ead._ You’re dead!” Tears were gathering in the younger man’s eyes and if Harry hadn’t already felt like shit he would have then.

“You’re right.”

There was a stillness as Eggsy processed his words. Then the young man shoved at him, trying to back away only to find his hands held in Harry’s vice-like grip. No matter how hard he pulled and thrashed Eggsy couldn’t break free of Harry’s iron grip, nor did the older man, the dear man, move.

“Let go! Let me go!” Eggsy’s cries were hysteric and Harry could easily see the whites of his eyes in his panicked face. When the younger man lifted a leg to kick at his captor Harry twisted, turning Eggsy around so that he was pressed back to front against Harry. The brunet wrapped his arms and legs around Eggsy, holding him still though the youth continued to thrash, truly panicked now.

“Eggsy,” Harry hissed.

And suddenly Eggsy went limp. A sob wrenched itself free of his throat and he collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut all at once. Harry followed him down, turning Eggsy so that he could press the other man’s face into his throat, stroking his hair and rubbing his back.

“I’m here, I’m here. I won’t leave you, I’m sorry.”

Tears stained Harry’s throat and not for the first time he wished he could cry. But he hadn’t been able to in decades and so he let the boy cry for the both of them. He didn’t release Eggsy until the other pushed at him again, gently this time. Harry wiped away the tears on Eggsy’s cheeks with his thumbs and pressed a dry kiss to his forehead.

“There now, I’m still here, yes?”

The tiniest nod from Eggsy and Harry smiled, watching as the expression helped to relax the other man.

“I-I know you can’t promise you ain’t gonna leave again but — “

“You’re right, I can’t.” He could hear Eggsy’s teeth click together as his mouth snapped shut. “But I can promise that it’ll take more than Valentine to be the end of me. I’ll always try to come back to you, I swear.”

It should have been odd, the connection they had. But Harry had been alone for so many years, even with Merlin and the other Kingsman. Eggsy was eager to please and excited to learn. Regardless of the trials he had been faced with he hadn’t lost himself to them, hadn’t changed into the cold murderer that Harry had been for years. Wasn’t the mindless killing machine that he sometimes had to be in order to do his work. Eggsy wanted someone to trust, to guide him. And Harry had needed companionship for so long that finding such a perfect match in this young man was at once astounding and terrifying.

“Why aren’t you dead?”

“I already told you, I am dead. But I’m not _completely_ dead.”

“...Please tell me yer actually gonna explain.”

Harry snorted shot Eggsy a grin. “I will, though I’d appreciate it if you listened first and asked questions later.”

Though he visibly forced himself to do so Eggsy nodded his consent.

There, on the floor in front of the chesterfield and the unlit fireplace, Harry told the story of how he became an undead member of the Kingsman secret service.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes noms and explains a few things through action.  
> Also, never let the man teach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long guys, and for the short length. I've been busy preparing to move to Korea <3 Let me know what you think

Harry turned away from where Eggsy was staring dumbly at him and rubbed a hand through his hair. This wasn’t going well. Eggsy was having as much trouble believing Harry wasn’t an unidentified corpse with a hole in its head in Kentucky as he was that Harry wasn’t human. Though, to be honest, Harry had experienced much the same panic and disbelief when it had been explained to him years ago.

So, he sucked in a breath, patted his cheeks, and steeled himself for a conversation that would take much _much_ longer than he had anticipated.

“Eggsy, come to the kitchen.” Harry strode there expecting the younger man to follow — he did, scrambling up from the couch — and began pulling out supplies from the icebox and cupboards.

Eggsy plopped down on a chair, legs splayed and still looking like a confused puppy. “Wha’ the ‘ell are you doin’?”

“Making dinner, what did you think I was doing?”

“I dunno mate! I don’t think I could eat right now if I tried though.” The joke fell flat, Eggsy’s voice shaky.

“Well then,” Harry opened a sealed container from the icebox and pulled out two of several individually sealed packets. “I suppose it’s good that I hadn’t intended to share.” The box went back in the freezer before Harry took out a saucepan and pot. Marinara and the contents of one packet went into the pan with some cheese while the pot was filled with water and salted before placed on a lit burner. The other he placed into the blender on the counter, adding chocolate milk from the fridge.

“Repeat to me what I just told you, Eggsy.”

The blond frowned, but attempted to recall Harry’s story. “You said yous was a zombie? An’, when Valentine shot ya ‘e missed yer brain, even if ‘e took out a chunk a yer skull.” He adjusted his position on the chair, looking uncomfortable. “Then you ah, you crawled inta tha’ church an’...an’ chowed down on tha’ brains a all those people you killed.”

Harry nodded, “Yes, which is what fuels the parasite living in my brain.”

“Err, yeah. So you got all healed up an’ then… then wha’, you stole a jet or somethin’?

In went corkscrew noodles — crazy eyed noodles, he liked to call them — and Harry turned on the burner beneath the saucepan. He pulled a wooden spoon from the drawer and pried the ‘meat’ apart, spreading it around in the sauce. Sliding the lid into place on the blender he held down the button until the contents were thoroughly mashed and mixed. They were deposited into a plastic sports bottle without the squeeze top and left on the counter.

“Mmm, something like that. I contacted a colleague of mine from the southern States and he leant me what I needed to get back. Though…” He glanced back at Eggsy. Bruises still marred the young man’s face, his lower lip split in two places. He looked tired, worn, scared. Harry turned away and tried to focus on dinner. “Obviously not soon enough.”

“But wha’ I don’ get is ‘ow did you become a zombie? They jus’ stories, innit?”

Harry snorted. “Obviously not my dear boy. And in just a moment I’ll prove it to you.

“I survived my run-in with Valentine because my kind are very hard to kill.  Well,” he grinned wryly, “at least we’re hard to kill the second time ‘round. Now, I realise you don’t believe that merely ingesting brain tissue has the ability to both heal my wounds and fortify my body. And because your trust is so important to me, I will prove it to you.”

Harry took out a strainer and dumped the finished pasta into it, turning off both the sauce and the other burner. He combined the two in a bowl and set it on the table with cutlery and several napkins, much to Eggsy’s confusion. This was going to be messy and Harry was glad he had hung up his jacket before now.

He then grasped the handle of a long, serrated bread knife from the block on the counter. Making sure Eggsy saw it, and steeling himself at the same time, Harry quickly slammed it home into his stomach, feeling the teeth of the blade rip open the flesh and muscle there, the hot pain of it numbing everything else for just a moment. Then he could hear Eggsy yelling, the boy knocking his chair over in his haste to get to Harry, to put pressure around the wound, already grabbing for his phone to call Merlin.

Harry didn’t let him, knocking the phone out of Eggsy’s reach and, making sure he still mad the young man’s attention, pulled out the knife. The gout of blood and shredded flesh, the acrid smell of bowl; all of these were things Harry had experienced before. But watching Eggsy grow pale, lips quivering and eyes filling with tears, his expression as much fear and confusion as it was betrayal. His protégé’s hands were still pressed to the hold in his belly, slick under bright red.

With a shaky hand Harry grabbed the sport bottle from the counter and, giving Eggsy an apologetic look, downed it.

Eggsy looked even more confused then, as Harry ignored his supposedly mortal, self-inflicted wound in favour of a drink. But within a moment his expression changed and his eyes shot down to where he was holding in Harry’s guts. His breathing picked up and Harry could hear the younger man’s pulse, the beat of his heart.

Beneath Eggsy’s hand the wound began to close.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freakouts, pajamas, and backstory; oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this guys, I'm finally in Korea! Yeah...

"Ah..." Eggsy couldn't take his eyes off his hands where they were pressed to Harry's stomach. The skin and muscle were rippling under his palm; the feeling of flesh knitting back together unsettling. "H-Harry?"

"It's fine, Eggsy." Harry finished his drink and set it aside. He dropped his hands to Eggsy's and squeezed them together. Shifting the younger man's hands to his thigh Harry untucked his shirt and pulled it up.

It was always interesting to see his body heal itself after a potentially fatal wound. By this point there wasn't much to actually see; the muscle already having fused and only the skin left to heal. The blood made seeing the actual wound difficult, but the amount of red was certainly daunting.

Eggsy was still staring. He hadn't taken his eyes off Harry's stomach and while the older man would have liked to imagine his protege was in awe of his physique it was — as always — far more likely it was because of the wound.

One of these days.

"Eggsy? Eggsy, look at me." The young man didn't follow and it took Harry lifting Eggsy's chin with a finger to catch his attention. "There we are. Are you alright?"

Eggsy's mouth worked before he sputtered. "Me?" He screeched. "Am _I_ okay?! Harry, you jus' fuckin' stabbed yourself!"

"And I'm perfectly fine. You can see for yourself, yes?" Harry stood and pulled off his shirt, using it to wipe his stomach mostly clean. Then he grabbed Eggsy's hands again and placed them on the seamless skin.

"But 'ow. Don't make sense." Harry's stomach tensed as Eggsy's fingertips stroked across the now healed wound. "Ain't even a scar. What the hell bruv?"

"I told you, I'm not human any longer. I haven't been human since I was fully initiated into Kingsman." Eggsy's head snapped up at that. "Yes, Eggsy, that is our greatest secret."

"And yer just tellin' me like tha'?"

"Yes." Harry pulled away, suddenly feeling cold without Eggsy's touch. "Now let me get cleaned up and we can continue our conversation, yes?"

Harry wasn't at all surprised when Eggsy followed him like a lost puppy, only stopping to sit outside the loo while Harry stripped and quickly washed up. Being gutted was never a clean affair after all.

Because he was a little shit, not that anyone would admit it aloud within earshot of him, Harry made sure to drop his towel on Eggsy's head as he exited the loo bare arsed. Harry took more joy than he should have hearing Eggsy squawk and then squeak once he got the towel off his head and got an eye-full.

Slipping on his robe instead of bothering with full clothes Harry passed by a still slack jawed Eggsy in the hallway and made his way back to the kitchen, the younger man swearing and scrabbling after him.

Harry had nearly finished his dinner before Eggsy spoke up.

"Ah," he began, stuttering quietly to a stop. "So, uh, does this mean Arthur ain't dead?"

The older knight paused to eye Eggsy then set down his forkful to steeple his fingers over his plate. "No, Chester King is most certainly dead. He was one of the first knights to ever refuse the bite and retain his knighthood. His ascension to the position of Arthur was due to the same political clout that let him avoid his responsibilities as a knight. As much as I protested this in the past, given recent developments, I'm quite happy he never received the bite."

Harry stared Eggsy down, continuing even after the blond flushed and looked away. "The question I have though, is what you will do."

"Huh?" Eggsy's brows bunched together, his expressive face pinched. "Waddya mean?"

"I mean, will you take the bite. After you formally attain a position I mean to say. As of now you are only an applicant, and a failed one at that." Harry's still heart clenched at the crestfallen look on Eggsy's face. "I was wrong to say what I did, Eggsy. Please forgive me; I was angry and disappointed but not only with you. I should have prepared you better. I had hoped... I had hoped you being the next Lancelot would give you protection I could not and that when you couldn't shoot JB it was because I hadn't prepared you enough to make that decision."

"I ain't soft, 'Arry." Eggsy, normally boisterous, was subdued. "I ain't a good person. I 'ave morals and I can be kind, but that don't mean I 'aven't just 'bout beat some guy to death cuz he said tha' wrong thing. You seen my rap sheet. What you ain't seen was 'ow I kept me an' tha' boys safe. 'Ow do ya think I punched through tha' glass?" Eggsy held up his right hand and flexed it. "Mosta this is metal an' scar tissue. Don't really feel anythin' anymore. Broken too many faces." He gave a crooked, weak smile and Harry felt himself respond in kind. "So you ain't done me wrong. I jus' won't kill if I don't 'ave ta. JB ain't ever done me wrong, even when 'e pissed on me as a pup. Like I ain't ever gonna shoot someone who did nuffin ta deserve it. Gimme a reason and yeah, no prob. But I ain't ever gonna abandon or betray tha' people I been tryin' and trainin' to protect."

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I couldn't ask for more, darling boy."

Eggsy's grin was beautific and the knot in Harry's stomach loosened.

"Good. So 'ow bout you finish yer dinner an' tell me all 'bout bein' a right proper zombie?"

Harry shook his head and grinned around his next bite.

\-----------------

Dinner and dishes passed by quickly and before long they were seated in the living room with a glass each. Harry had his own special brand — a scotch distilled using human brains and a process he really didn't care to learn about — and Eggsy with his own rye and water.

Eggsy had borrowed a pair of Harry's pajamas and sat with his chin on his knees and hem of the pants pooled around his feet. His eyes hadn't left Harry's form in some time; a look of fierce concentration on his face. "So 'ow old are you, really."

"A gentleman never tells, Eggsy."

"Pfft, you jus' wanna be mysterious is all. C'mon 'Arry, tell me. I ain't gonna laugh."

Honestly he wasn't worried about Eggsy laughing, but recoiling in horror. Some of that must have shown on his face because the younger man's face softened and he reached a hand out to grasp one of Harry's, squeezing gently.

"Oi, don' worry 'bout it. I ain't gonna run away. 'M 'ere for the long 'aul, eh?" And there was that cheeky, beautific smile.

Harry heaved an exaggerated sigh. "If I must. I haven't... My age is not something I speak out flippantly. I... I have been alive since 1854." He waited for a response from Eggsy only to find the boy wide eyed and quiet. "I, I travelled the world. First with my father and then on my own. When I was traversing the African Congo I became ill, dreadfully so. It... It was not a kind way to die, nor a dignified one. One of my attendants, James, was seemingly immune from the sickness that was sweeping through the members of our expedition.

"He came to me one night, as I lay sweating and coughing on my cot, dying in my own shit. He waited until I was lucid enough to speak, not wanting me to miss a word. James asked if I wanted salvation. I said yes, of course, please let me die."

Eggsy's face had grown pale, fingers digging into his knees until his knuckles were white and bruises would surely decorate the skin there. His eyes hadn't moved from Harry's face. He was enraptured and horrified.

"He said he could offer me salvation. Or at least a try at it. It became clear to me later, after this, that his odd way of speaking hadn't been because he was uneducated. But because the first language he had ever spoken was unlike anything I had ever heard.

"When I had said yes I thought he meant to kill me then, to end my suffering; that death would be my salvation. No. Salvation was life after death, to walk the world always. It isn't a sure thing, you know. There was a better than good possibility I would die there in my filth in the Congo. But I didn't. I died and lived again. James taught me the ways, showed me how to survive but also how to conceal from the world what I had become; what he had made me."

Harry sipped his drink and Eggsy started, having forgotten the world outside Harry's tale.

"An' James? Where's 'e at now?"

"I'm not too certain. He was always a bit of a nomad, uncomfortable putting down roots where there was still earth to explore. We keep in touch though, when we can."

Eggsy nodded, understanding the feeling even if he hadn't quite experienced it in full himself. There were times when that lifestyle would have suited him, long before Kingsman, before his sister. When it was just he and his mum and that bastard Dean. When he had a choice of protecting a woman who didn't want it and leaving for greener, safer, happier pastures.

"So yer a 'undred and sixty then? Give or take." Harry grimaced but nodded. "So yous only 'bout one 'undred thirty six older 'an me." Eggsy's cheeky grin was blinding and Harry couldn't help but snort. The younger man's hand reached out and settled on his mentor's knee. "Don't matter 'ow old ye are, 'Arry. Yer tha' same man, yeah? Tha' same good man no matter wha'."

Harry smiled weakly and lay his hand atop Eggsy's, giving a little squeeze. "That is very kind of you to say. I...I have changed much these years, but not for the worse, I hope."

“Well, I ain’t got much to complain ‘bout, though the stuffed dog is a bit much innit? But naw bruv, safe.” He rolled his neck, eliciting several crunches and a final pop that made him groan. “I swear I got old this week. I gotta crash, ‘ow’s about you take yer old bed an’ I take tha’ spare? If you sleep I mean.” Eggsy stood, Harry following.

“I do, in fact, sleep. Though not nearly as much as a human does. But after my display I’d like to sleep I think. Are you certain…?” Harry frowned as Eggsy waved him off. “Eggsy, this has become your home, I simply can’t — “

“‘Arry, wasn’t ‘ome til now. Jus’ tryin’ ta fill a hole by bein’ ‘ere is all.” Patting his one time mentor on the shoulder Eggsy shuffled off up the stairs to the second floor.

Harry pondered that for a moment before he realised something. “Eggsy, if you’ve been living here then why are you wearing my pajamas?”

Laughter flowed down the stairs and Harry shook his head, glad to be home.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The muzzle of a gun, inches from Eggsy’s face. He grabbed the hand, shoving it down.
> 
> Bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one guys! I've been a little distracted. Apparently there's going to be a Kingsman event in Korea this August. Does anyone know someone who is going? I'd love to meet up :)
> 
> For some reason words were missing when I moved this from word to the chapter text. Let me know if anything else is gone.
> 
> All reviews, kudos, etc.. are loved!

It took a bit for things to settle enough for Eggsy to be formally invited into Kingsman. He and Harry waited for the day Eggsy would officially become one of them. It was slow torture and made the younger man antsy. But they tried to fill the time by spending it together, making up for lost moments through training and settling Eggsy’s domestic affairs.

His mum and sister were set up in a flat by the shop; Michelle not buying a word about Eggsy’s new job as a tailor. She had stared Harry down with a baby on her hip until even he — the unflappable Harry Hart — had begun to fidget. Then she had shoved her daughter at Harry, the man swiftly and gently cradling the toddler to his chest, and told him that he owed her seventeen years worth of babysitting and he could start right that instant.

Then, with a nod to Eggsy, she took her purse and was out the door. Harry was left very confused with a very sticky little girl pawing at his jacket. Eggsy hadn’t laughed that hard in years.

When they weren’t babysitting — Eggsy kind enough to only leave Harry completely alone with his sister twice — they were out and about. Jamal and Ryan had survived V-day, thankfully, and they stopped by to meet Eggsy’s new man. After a moment of silence Ryan had heaved a sigh, slid down and his seat, and shoved a twenty over to Jamal who promptly ordered a round for their table, courtesy of Ryan.

Harry proved that night that he could easily outdrink three twenty-somethings. Only Eggsy knew that he emptied his stomach in the loo right after. It was, he explained to Eggsy, a difficult trade off. He was essentially immortal and could heal from any wound bar a shot through the brain, but at the cost of his favourite vices. He could no longer enjoy the weightlessness of a high or the easy sleep and forgetfulness of being black-out drunk. Drugs and alcohol no longer affected him, but they still caused damage to his body. Damage that his parasite would work to repair. So he was, essentially, adding insult to injury by making bad decisions he couldn’t even enjoy.

Which explained why he had enjoyed that Guinness so much the day he and Eggsy had met.

But time passed and even keeping themselves busy didn’t detract from the waiting game. Not knowing when the date would come and they would move on with their lives. The day when Eggsy would have to choose between his mortal life without Kingsman but with his mum and sister, or the life of an immortal.

The day came and Eggsy was put forward as the replacement for Gawain — a knight known to be the defender of women and the poor — but the ceremony was quick and the bite was...disappointing. Eggsy went through the motions of becoming a knight with grace, the white and silver suit provided to him making his hair shine like gold. He was nervous but he held himself well and didn’t balk when the new Arthur —  a woman that had once worked for MI6 with hair and eyes the colour of cold silver — gently bit his neck, though his pinched brows showed his discomfort. He didn’t see the furrowed brows and shared looks between the knights behind him. But nothing was said then.

When it was all over and they had congregated in the board room Eggsy had quietly asked Harry if that was all it took to spread the parasite. He’d gotten a sharp look in response, and a quick shake of Harry’s head.

He’d turned to Roxy then, the other knight wearing a frown. Roxy had already received her bite, becoming a full Kingsman. She seemed equally as confused as Harry and the rest. They didn’t discuss it there, the topic not one to be discussed openly even among their peers. Later that evening when they’d retired to Harry’s flat the older man had explained.

“The bite...it isn’t graceful, or polite. It’s everything a gentleman shouldn’t be, which is why we strive so hard to distance ourselves from our primal nature. If Arthur had truly given you the bite…” He swallowed and massaged his throat as though easing a phantom pain. “Let’s just say it isn’t something you ever forget.”

He hadn’t gone into more detail on the ‘how’ of it, but had expanded on the lore of their species.

“We, the undead, have been around since man climbed out of the sludge pits. No one is certain how exactly we became to exist, to separate ourselves from the purely human stock, but we did. At some point in history we split from humanity and have evolved alongside them silently. Well,” here he paused with a wry look, “I say silently but there have been cock-ups. More than once an undead got it into their head that immortality meant all-powerful. They began to gather support which then turned into troops. The only wars fought with our kind were short and relatively small. Even a handful of us in one place can be hard to supply, but a militant force? No, it wasn’t possible. Even so they were violent, bloody clashes that took a toll on the human population. Why do you think everyone avoids Chernobyl? The nuclear melt-down only happened after one such war happened and the majority of the human population was turned or eaten.

“Quite a few of our species still reside there, the radiation surprisingly benign to our bodies and parasite. But it’s an addiction of its own, and most of the ones electively residing there are no longer able to leave, their parasites needing the radiation to exist after so long.”

Eggsy hadn’t had any questions to ask. Instead he listened intently, sipping delicately at his tea when he remembered it was in his hands.

“But overall our numbers are sparse. It isn’t a trivial thing to give the bite and the chances of a candidate surviving are always slim, no matter the circumstance. Even the oldest of us, with the strongest parasite, would have to be absolutely sure of their candidate before attempting to turn them. Most die.”

“So that’s why you ‘ave so many recruits.”

Harry nodded. “Because, aside from seeing who is loyal enough we need to know who is strong enough to make it through the transition. Having a bigger pool means a higher chance that the applicant will survive.”

Eggsy was quiet for a moment, staring at his hands cupped around the mug. “And...what about me? Think I’m strong enough?” He was quiet, barely whispering.

“Truly? I don’t know for certain if you will survive. But I think you’re strong enough. I… I hope you do. Aside from making a wonderful Kingsman I…” Harry paused to lick his lips. “I would be rather upset to lose you.”

They sat in silence for a while, before Eggsy lost his nerve and stood. He set the mug on the table with a shaky hand. “I should get goin’. I’ll give ya a ring later, yeah?”

Harry had nodded and before he could properly show the newest Kingsman out, Eggsy was already stuffing his feet into his shoes and out the door. Lead seemed to of lines Harry’s stomach and he sat still. It wasn’t until morning light was filtering in through the curtains did he bother to rise.

—————————————————

Eggsy had a lot of questions. But then there were missions to finish and crime rings to dismantle, missing persons and countries to save. Having proved himself to be more than capable Eggsy was sent out on his first solo mission, Merlin bullying his way into being the new agent’s handler. Really, all he had to do was furrow his brow and make a low burr in his throat to make people move.

When Eggsy, being too noble for his own good, had brought up his inability to shoot his dog and how that reflected his ability to do the job Arthur had scoffed.

“Boy, you murdered dozens of people, in cold blood, with your own two hands; not to mention the thousands whose heads you blew up. I couldn’t care less about the damn dog. It was a bloody stupid test anyway.” She had cocked an eyebrow at Eggsy, who had replied with a shy grin. It seemed the two would be getting on alright — or until she had to deal with his cheek.

So Eggsy was off on his first solo mission. It was in London, conveniently, and consisted of working his way into a den of dealers to scope out the power arrangement between the varying factions. A fairly simply mission that required a good deal of patience, charm, and attention. The operation worked out of an old underground tunnel; a connection point with empty tunnels running off in several directions. They were old and dilapidated, some having grown their own greenery. Each tunnel housed its own faction: guns, drugs, chemicals, people. The director of it all was who Eggsy was after, the man or woman shrouded in mystery and fear.

Eggsy had been fine, until he had been browsing the flesh market.

It was almost comical how the place was set up to mimic a grocery; each department segregated from the other. The flesh market had some stalls with posts, cages in others. Some of the people inside were filthy, dead-eyed; probably having been there a while. Others were wide-eyed in terror and still wearing moderately clean clothing. New product, as it were. One boy caught his attention from where he leant against a post, glancing up from where he was studying his nails. Flagging down an attendant Eggsy had asked, “What’s the going rate on this one?”

Apparently he had mistaken the son of the merchant for one of the wares.

Eggsy didn’t do things in halves; fucking up included.

“Shit, Merlin, what the hell?!” Eggsy swore and scooted further behind the stack of crates. The _crack crack_ of bullets tearing through the wood was disconcerting.

“What did I say about making smart arse comments, lad?”

“Not to,” Eggsy grumbled, taking advantage of a lul to duck out and pop off a few rounds, hoping for at least one hit. “But I didn’t this time, swear down!”

A man rounded the corner and lifted his gun, forcing Eggsy to throw himself forward into a roll, gun coming up and firing. He hit the man in the shoulder on the first shot, sending the man’s shot  wide. Eggsy’s second shot got him in the throat and the man went down in a spray of blood. Another took his place and Eggsy fired again. He continued to fire, taking down each wave of attackers until his clip ran dry and his pockets were empty.

Eggsy’s lighter grenade went over one shoulder to clear out the tunnel behind him and after he pegged the fourth bastard in the face his ring was out of a charge. The knife in his shoe did well until that too was gone, snapping off in the shin bone of some poor bastard left choking. He was down to his fists and a suit jacket rapidly becoming bulletproof fishnet.

The end flashed before his eyes when he swung a fist out, intending to clip his next target in the nose, and missed. Then the man’s knife was buried up to the hilt in Eggsy’s belly. The world went hazy for a moment, a roaring in his ears and a tingling in his fingers. But then Eggsy shoved the man back, not even noticing the lance of pain as the knife was ripped free, or the arc of blood that followed.

He turned, kicking out, breaking another’s wrist. Punch to the left, crushed windpipe. Leg sweep, heel to the ground, broken neck. Something hit him in the back and Eggsy stumbled, ducking and pivoting to drive a fist into another man’s nose one, twice, three times until he stopped moving and fell to the ground. Another punch to his sternum, breath knocked free. His legs felt like jelly. Why did his chest feel wet? Shit. He missed.

The muzzle of a gun, inches from Eggsy’s face. He grabbed the hand, shoving it down.

_Bang._

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

He gagged, blood spurting from his mouth to paint the man’s arm.

Eggsy managed to twist the gun free and jam it against the underside of the man’s jaw. Grey matter, skull pieces, and blood sprayed outwards to paint the wall. But he didn’t see it. All Eggsy could see was his hand, red and shaking. He collapsed, legs going out from under him like a marionette with its strings cut. Someone was shouting. Was that him? No, couldn’t be… He needed to move, find a wall.

Dragging himself on weak arms Eggsy managed to find a wall and propped himself up. Air rasped up his throat, weak, clogged. He was choking. What…? Wiping at his mouth, coughing, he found more blood on his hand.

“Merlin…?”

“...s...E…ssy...Eggsy!”

Eggsy coughed again, head lolling to the side. “Erl’n...S’ry...can’t…” Red splattered the wall.

“Hold on! Sen…Arry…be…kay.”

“Ell me mum,” Eggsy wheezed through a tight chest, wet lips, “love ‘er. Love...’Ry…”

Then he couldn’t hear anything at all.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revival, it's a funny thing. Eggsy's mind is blown at all the new information.
> 
> or
> 
> Eggsy pulls a Jesus - though his respawn time is hella improved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys, I've had this written for a few days but I don't have a registered copy of Word on my laptop, so I couldn't copy it from drive to word (and thus keeping my formatting) and post it here.  
> So uh, anyone got a key for word they don't need?
> 
> Kudos, comments, and fan stuffs hella appreciated!

           The moment Harry had seen Eggsy lock onto the boy he had been out the door.

He knew his protege well enough, knew the young man’s mind. He would see himself in that boy, his sister; someone that needed saving. He wouldn’t see how clean the boy’s clothes were, how straight he held himself. And Eggsy certainly wouldn’t see the knife. It was a mistake that would cost them, Eggsy and Harry the most.

If Harry didn’t get there in time.

——————

Harry didn’t even see the crowd of black market dealers and shoppers as he tore through them. Anyone who got in his way received a bullet to the face or a knife to whatever appendage was closest. The number of corpses he left in his wake was impressive, though he was too focused to do more than pull his knife out than to leave it behind in a dying body. Soon enough the tunnel emptied, leaving only Harry’s quick steps to echo off the walls.

Those and the slowing sounds of screaming and gunfire.

Harry wasn’t fast enough. He hadn’t left soon enough. The man standing over Eggsy, bloody and hardly staying up on his own two feet, was proof of that. Harry didn’t bother to shoot him. Instead grabbing the injured man by one arm and the opposite shoulder and literally ripping him apart. Harry didn’t hear his dying screams, deafened by the rush of blood in his ears.

Eggsy looked small and pale on the ground, eyes hardly open, bloody spittle bubble as he tried to suck in breaths through his ruined torso. There were holes all across him; the white of his shirt and paling skin almost hidden amidst a wash of red. One pale hand, twitching and shaking furiously, reached out towards Harry and he dropped to his knees, grabbing it.

“Eggsy. Eggsy we don’t have time. Shit. You have to tell me yes. Tell me you want this. I can’t — I can’t do this to you without permission. You _have to tell me yes._ ”

A weak gurgle was all Eggsy could manage, voice lost amidst the blood filling his lungs. But the weak squeeze he gave Harry was felt loudly. The older agent squeezed back before taking his once protege in his arms.

"Know this won't be forever. I'm sorry."

And then Harry buried his teeth in Eggsy's throat.

Eggsy's weak body seized but he couldn't so more than raise a hand to bat weakly at Harry's face.

Harry's teeth clamped down, sliding side to side as they sawed through flesh, muscle, and cartilage. Blood filled Harry's mouth and spilled out the sides, dribbling down his chin and Eggsy's body. With one arm around Eggsy's waist and the other gripping the back of his neck Harry pulled back quickly and with his came Eggsy's throat.

The parasite took over; logic quickly smothered beneath the primal ferocity of _rip tear mine._ Harry was left to curl into a tight ball in the back of his own mind, trying to hide from the savagery he was inflicting on the poor boy. The boy — young man — he had sworn to protect after Lee had died. But the world wasn't a fair place, and things didn't always work out the way they were expected to.

\------

When Harry surfaced from the bloodlust he felt heavy. It was as though his skin had been replaced by lead. He was exhausted, and hungry, but _satisfied_. No matter how this would end they couldn't stay there. So Harry gathered Eggsy's ravaged body into his arms, gently cradling his head against one shoulder, and took them out of the tunnels.

Merlin met them with a stone-faced medical team and a stretcher. Harry was reluctant to release his charge, but did so regardlessly. They couldn't pry him away from Eggsy though, and after a few half hearted tries the team gave up, watching from a distance.

The ride home was silent and quick. Harry didn't notice beyond the occasional sway of Eggsy's limbs when the driver braked too hard or turned too sharply. He followed the stretcher when it was carefully removed from the cab. The private room in the medical ward was pristine white. It was shocking when compared to Eggsy's ruined body. His skin was almost the same shade of grey as the autopsy table in the loo where they lay Eggsy down.

Harry took his time and carefully stripped Eggsy of his ruined clothes, dropping them into a waste basket for someone to sift through before disposal. With careful hands he cleaned his boy as best he could. Eggsy's skin was cold to his touch, stiffening as rigour mortis took hold. When he was finished he dressed Eggsy in a pair of soft cotton sleep pants and lay him out on the bed.

Then, all Harry could do was wait.

—————————-

It was several hours before Harry moved from his seat beside Eggsy's bed. He shifted, grimacing at the pins and needles feeling in his arse and legs; something that had persisted through death even though he didn't truly have a functioning cardiovascular system any longer. The biological functions of the undead really didn't make sense, so Harry tried not to dwell on it too much.

He sent a text to Merlin, asking for updates on the dealers the clean up crews had apprehended after Harry had torn through the market. Things had gone well, the carnage and death of one of their own aside. He was sure to pass on the basics and promised a full report by the following afternoon. Absently pleased, Harry thanked his long time friend and sent another request, this one for dinner.

Harry worked as he ate, chatting away at Eggsy's corpse as if it were the most natural thing to do. As if the block of savaged meat could or would respond. To any sane, normal person Harry would be a prime example of an unstable mind. But he wasn't a sane, normal person. He was a Kingsman; an undead spy that had already lived for more than one hundred years. In that time he had killed probably a thousand people. Probably more, if he thought about it.

So no; Harry Hart was not a sane, or normal, person.

And that was fine by him.

\--------

When Eggsy woke the first thing he thought was how bloody bright it was. The second was that he felt incredibly comfortable. Which wasn't right, considering where he had expected to end up. You don't go about killing a few thousand people — with his own hands or not — and expect to be welcomed in at the pearly gates. So really, he was very confused.

But comfortable.

And then there was a hand in one of his, and a warm puff of air across his chest. Eggsy made a near heroic effort to open his eyes again and was rewarded not by blinding light, but by a pair of warm brown eyes. Eggsy considered that this outcome might actually be preferable to heaven after all.

"Can you hear me, Eggsy?"

God, Harry's voice was like honey and hit water, soothing and comforting; a high Eggsy didn't need to come down from. "Yeah," he croaked. His throat felt like someone had lined it with razors while he was out. "Yeah I c'n 'ear ya."

Harry's eyes grew watery and he closed them, but not before a tear slid free and dropped. It splashed on Eggsy's cheek and trickled down to his ear. "Oh thank God," he whispered. And then Harry was burying his face in Eggsy's throat for the second time that day, shaking as he sobbed into the clean, unblemished skin there.

"'Ey, 'ey, 'Arry, wha'?" Eggsy awkwardly patted the older man on the back, stroking his hand up and down atop the expensive fabric of Harry's shirt. "'Ey now, s'okay."

"I'm sorry, my boy." Harry drew back and Eggsy let him go only a little reluctantly.

"S'alright. Everybody gots ta cry now 'an then, right?"

"True," Harry murmured, wiping his face and straightening his cuffs. "But I'm not apologising for that. Or, at least, not entirely." At Eggsy's confused he stiffened. "Eggsy, what do you remember?"

Frowning Eggsy shifted until he was sitting upright. "Was on a mission, yeah? Some kinda market, terrorists 'an shit. Then...it went tits up innit?" At Harry's slow nod Eggsy groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I fucked up. Shit. 'Arry, I fucked up, again. I keep disappointin' ya. 'M sorry."

"No, Eggsy no. Listen." Harry gently pulled Eggsy's hands away and held them in his own. "You didn't disappoint me. This last mission could have gone better — obviously — but that doesn't mean I think any less of your or your capabilities. You're young," he ignored the wince and snort Eggsy made, "and you're new to our world. You did fantastically with Valentine. But that's one type of mission. Your combat skills are top notch, but some things are gained through experience. And...and last night I had you make a choice. One that would mean having the time to gain experience...or not."

"What do you mean..." Eggsy looked pale — paler — and scared. "What happened."

Harry shifted, uncomfortable. Shit, this was harder than he had expected it to be. This wasn't his first time turning someone but...

"I asked you if you wanted the bite...and you... You said yes."

"...Oh..." The two fell quiet. Eggsy considered what that meant. He wasn't dead, not entirely, so that was good. But...but that also meant he wasn't alive. He wouldn't age. He wouldn't do a lot of things now. No more drugs or drinks, definitely. But what about injuries? He had seen Harry heal from his self-inflicted fur wound, and the man had survived being shot in the head thanks to his parasite. But...what else would that mean?

Would be crave human flesh? Would he become a slavering monster, willing and able to kill anyone for his next meal? The thought terrified Eggsy. His mum and Daisy were at risk now by just being in the same room as him. They weren't safe with him anymore.

The added speed and strength, the increased healing factor; all of those were useful as a spy. But he had essentially just traded his future of a home life for one of lonely immortality.

Eggsy hadn't realised he was shaking until one of Harry's hands covered his own. The other hands wiped away the tears trickling down his cheeks and Eggsy was shocked to realise he hadn't even noticed.

"This won't be easy," Harry murmured, "but you're strong. And you aren't alone. You can make it through this, flourish even."

"Yeah but...but wha' 'bout me mum an' Dais'? I can't go near em like this. I won't put 'em in danger 'Arry, not after tryin' so 'ard to make 'em safe in tha' firs' place." Eggsy shuffled to the side a bit as Harry rose from his chair and sat on the bed. He let himself be pulled in, face testing on the divot of Harry's shoulder.

"They'll be fine Eggsy. So long as you keep yourself fed you won't have anything to worry about. I promised I would sort things out after I returned from Kentucky, yes?"

Sniffling Eggsy nodded. He felt Harry's fingers in his hair and let himself snuggle closer. He would deal with the fallout of this later, when he could rationalize how gently Harry was holding him into guilt and their mentor/student relationship instead of the several less respectable explanations that were swarming his mind. But for now he inhaled, tasting Harry's cologne on his tongue, and let himself go loose limbed in the older man's arms.

"Mm, yeah you did."

"And I plan to. Starting with teaching you about being undead. Though, I'd ask for some leniency from you. This is only my second time giving the bite."

"Really? Thought you was the Mac daddy of zombies or sumfink. You sure you ain't got a buncha zombies-babies runnin' 'round askin' 'who my daddy?'"

Harry snorted and tugged on Eggsy's hair playfully. "I rather think not. A gentleman does not procreate 'willy nilly'."

At that Eggsy barked a laugh, buying his face in Harry's neck to smother it.

For his park Harry smiled and ruffled Eggsy's hair. "Now, we have much to do. Time to get up and dressed." He gave Eggsy one more squeeze and slipped out from beneath his protege. "Come bow, Eggsy, there are things to do."

After much grumbling Eggsy finally did just that, though he couldn't stop wondering. Who else had Harry bitten?

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Serenades for the Undead Romantics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5540834) by [meetingyourmaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meetingyourmaker/pseuds/meetingyourmaker)




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